Bull In A China Shop
by e-dog
Summary: Catherine's second chance.  [Sequel to You Break It, You Bought It CathSara]


Disclaimer: Not mine

Author's Notes: Another short little one shot. I was asked to continue. Usually, I don't cave to peer pressure. ;)

Summary: Catherine's second chance. [Sequel to You Break It, You Bought It; Cath/Sara

**Bull In A China Shop**

by e-dog

"It's simple. You go in there, sit down and have dinner," Greg says, pointing at the reservation card in your hand. It's simple, he says. Sure, you'd be a fool to turn down this date with Sara, but does that make it the right thing to do?

The shift is over. Evidence has to be processed and for now, your abandoned infant has a home in the foster care system. Work is out of your mind, but remnants of the last few hours are still in your heart. Sara ignored you pretty much the entire time. You're beginning to doubt what Greg has told you, the chance he has given you. How could someone who hates you so much right now actually miss you? How could Greg tell you that all Sara really wants is to see you?

He's right, you did kiss Sara but you also took it back. You told her it was a mistake. Now she's not talking to you.

You often feel like a total klutz. Lumbering through life, knocking things over. Breaking them. Or in this case, kissing certain co-workers than pretending it never happened. You're a mess.

"Simple," you repeat, looking at Greg. You hold the card, glancing at the place and time again. You study it, as if you have suddenly forgotten where to go and when to be there.

"Okay, okay, I can see you reconsidering," Greg says, his eyes twinkling mischievously again. "Consider the war in your heart a labor of love."

You give him an exasperated look.

Greg sighs. "Alright. Let's get down to brass tacks here. You like her, obviously. You kissed her. From what I hear, she was really into kissing you back. . ."

"She was?" you say, not able to help yourself.

"Yes, but remember, it's just what I heard," Greg teases. "Now, c'mon, Cath! Let's not ignore the writing on the wall!"

You roll your eyes. He's spouting off idioms again. You think you've counted about three so far.

He plucks the reservation card from your hand and before you can protest, he waves it in front of your face. "See this? It's a gift. A gift from your friend, Greg, who would love nothing more in the world than to see his two most favorite girls be happy. Get it? It's a gift."

You eye the card, then smile shyly yourself. "So basically, what you're saying is don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

"Exactly," Greg grins, handing the card back to you. "Now go. Meet her. She promised me she would show up, after I begged and told her how much effort I put in setting up this 'blind date' for her."

You stand there another second longer, before Greg forcefully pushes you away. "Go!"

So you do go. Well, you're here. You're standing in the doorway and you can see her. She's sitting at a table, a candle lit and an open bottle of wine. Her outfit is simple. Dark blue blouse, black skirt. She has legs to die for, you notice. You've kept her waiting for about ten minutes and you know this. You just can't go in yet. You want to marvel this moment. You just want to watch her for just one moment.

She's stunning. Absolutely stunning and never in your life have you ever felt so. . .ordinary. That's right. You feel beneath her. Not in a way that feels condescending or egotistically bruising. No. You feel she is so much more than you could have ever imagined. You think that it took way too long to kiss her and you're damn sure that you want to kiss her again.

You walk in.

You go straight for her table, quickly. You're there so fast, by the time she notices, you're next to her. She finishes swallowing whatever wine was left in her mouth and she looks at you. Her eyes travel down your body, she sees the dress and the heels and quickly deduces your being here is more than a coincidence. When she meets your face again, she shakes her head in disbelief. "You're my date?"

"Sorry I'm late," you say quietly.

"I can't tell Greg anything," Sara says so dully and so blandly, you're not sure what to make of it. She stands up and shakes her head again, "I can't. . ."

"Sara, don't go," you plead. "Stay."

Your tone of voice stops her from walking past you. She remains rooted in place, avoiding your gaze. She tells you honestly, "My mind is telling me to go. To just walk out, Cath."

You step forward, closing the gap and you give a bashful smile. "Well, a guy once told me that you have to grab life by the horns."

Sara smiles, despite herself. "Well, that same guy told me that when it comes to you, I'm not playing with a full deck."

Your eyes widen. Greg essentially called Sara stupid. Stupid for ignoring you today? Stupid because maybe she's liked you for just as long as you have liked her and she's done nothing about it. You ask tentatively, "And what did you say?"

"I was tempted to throw him through a wall," Sara smiles wider, prompting you to laugh. She meets your eyes and says sincerely, "Ultimately, I told him he was right."

You're unable to keep your eyes from her lips. To kiss her again. . .

You motion to the door. "Let's get out of here. Talk."

Sara nods. She leaves a hefty sum of money on the table and follows you out. You know talking is probably the best course of action, but Sara has to know you didn't bring her outside to just talk. If she doesn't know, she'll find out soon enough.

Soon enough meaning, now. Right now. On the sidewalk, in front of the restaurant and surrounded by the lights and sounds and the strange inhabitants of Vegas. It's a public declaration, you'd like to think. You're kissing Sara Sidle and this time, you never want to take it back.

The low moan she releases, that moan resonating in your mouth most certainly means two things.

One, Greg was right. Sara did want to kiss you back.

Two, you're getting lucky tonight. Talking will wait until tomorrow.

The End


End file.
